Back at the villa, as soon as he stepped out of the car, Lin Xun’s feet failed to find solid ground; staggering, he nearly fell to his knees.
Ding Jun caught him just in time, asking, “Are you okay?”
Lin Xun shook his head, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself, which slightly eased his dizziness.
Ding Jun offered to support him upstairs, but Huo Tingxiao rounded the car and took over, saying, “Thanks for your hard work tonight. Take tomorrow off.”
“Thank you, President Huo. I’ll be taking my leave then.”
Ding Jun drove off, and Huo Tingxiao looked down, asking Lin Xun, “Can you walk on your own?”
Lin Xun stared blankly, unresponsive.
He was wearing a broad-shouldered sleeveless top. The feeling of Huo Tingxiao’s large hand gripping his arm—skin touching skin without any barrier—stole away all his attention.
Taking the silence as a no, Huo Tingxiao wrapped a single arm around his waist from behind and guided him into the elevator.
Lin Xun froze up completely.
“Press the floor.”
The low, slightly heavy voice nearly sent Lin Xun’s soul flying out of his body. It was only when Huo Tingxiao let out a soft laugh that he realized he had pressed the button for the third floor.
He hurriedly canceled it and pressed the first floor instead.
Uncle Ji came out wearing a robe, wanting to take over caring for Lin Xun, but Lin Xun instinctively leaned closer into Huo Tingxiao’s chest.
It was a move born entirely of instinct, executed before his logic could conceal or refine it.
This absolute trust and reliance was Lin Xun’s special, exclusive offering, meant for Huo Tingxiao alone.
The hand wrapped around his waist seemed to tighten slightly. He heard Huo Tingxiao tell Uncle Ji to fetch some hangover medicine, after which Huo Tingxiao led him back into his room.
Lin Xun fumbled a few times before finding the light switch.
The balcony door leading to the small garden was wide open, the night breeze gently drifting through the room, leaving behind a trace of summer’s lingering warmth.
Huo Tingxiao walked over to close the door and turned on the climate control.
The room wasn’t large, with clean and simple furnishings—just like Lin Xun’s thoughts after drinking, clear at a single glance. But simple didn’t mean boring; Huo Tingxiao found himself quite intrigued by a small hydroponic plant by the desk.
“What is this?”
It was a makeshift pot made from a plastic bottle, with a few reddish-brown seeds held above the water by a homemade fine mesh. Every seed had taken root and sprouted, extending long, slender stems that bore a few pink leaves at their tips.
From a distance, it looked like a miniature pink forest.
Lin Xun walked over, carefully picking up the planter to show him the seeds floating above the water up close.
“Lychee pits?” Huo Tingxiao asked.
Lin Xun nodded.
These were lychees he had picked in the garden on his very first day at the Huo household. Unfortunately, Huo Tingxiao had left that same night and hadn’t eaten many.
He had quietly retrieved a few lychee pits, nurturing and cultivating them with care, until they finally sprouted pink leaves.
This pot of pink forest was just like his feelings for Huo Tingxiao—unable to see the light of day.
Only the shadows could allow it to grow wild.
Lin Xun moved the potted plant to the corner by the nightstand, putting it away as if hiding a treasure.
Huo Tingxiao noticed the lisianthus hanging upside down in front of the window, its petals already showing signs of drying out. Just as he was about to take a closer look, Lin Xun navigated around the foot of the bed with unsteady steps, coming over to pack that away too.
Huo Tingxiao quietly watched him tidy up the room in a lock-the-barn-door fashion, until there was a knock at the door.
Lin Xun wanted to answer it, but Huo Tingxiao pressed his hands on his shoulders, making him sit on the bed.
“Don’t move.”
Huo Tingxiao stepped over his feet, went to the door to take the water and medicine from Uncle Ji, and returned to stand in front of Lin Xun, cupping his chin: “Take your medicine.”
Lin Xun looked up at him, obediently opening his mouth.
Huo Tingxiao placed the hangover pill inside his mouth, lightly holding up his chin with one hand while feeding him water with the other.
Lin Xun’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down a little slowly.
Water he couldn’t swallow in time trickled from the corner of his mouth, wetting the collar of his tank top.
Huo Tingxiao set the glass down and wiped away the water marks on his chin.
He asked, “Want more?”
Lin Xun nodded, so Huo Tingxiao continued feeding him.
Having drunk a whole glass of water in fitful gulps like this, Lin Xun’s throat still felt as though it were burning, craving more moisture.
Dazedly, he lowered his eyelashes, his gaze naturally falling upon the man’s lap. After staring fixedly for a few seconds in a fit of dazed fixation, he closed his eyes in overwhelming embarrassment.
Huo Tingxiao held his chin, the weight in his palm growing heavier, until Lin Xun’s forehead slowly came to rest against him.
“Lin Xun,” he patted his cheek, “change your clothes before sleeping, or you’ll catch a cold.”
Lin Xun opened his eyes once more. His bloodshot, alcohol-flushed eyes harbored a rare trace of annoyance at being disturbed.
His gaze was unfocused, unable to center on anything for a long while.
Huo Tingxiao ruffled his hair and said, “Raise your arms.”
Even though Lin Xun was too dizzy to know north from south, his body remained fiercely loyal to Huo Tingxiao’s instructions. He raised both arms, letting Huo Tingxiao grab the collar and pull it upward, taking off the damp tank top.
Lin Xun had fair skin, the subtle muscles of his chest and abdomen forming smooth, elegant lines.
The heat of the alcohol coated his entire body in an alluring shade of crimson, making him strikingly beautiful to behold.
Huo Tingxiao looked down at him for a few seconds, intending to fetch a pair of pajamas from the wardrobe for him to wear. But when he turned back around, Lin Xun had already burrowed under the covers.
With his eyes closed, he squirmed left and right for half a minute before sluggishly kicking his pants out from under the duvet.
Two long, slender legs rested casually on the white bedsheet, exceptionally enticing.
Huo Tingxiao stood by the bed for a moment before walking over to cover him properly with the duvet.
Just as he was about to leave, a small opening appeared at the corner of the blanket. Lin Xun extended a finger like a snail’s antenna, lightly hooking it around the hem of Huo Tingxiao’s T-shirt.
Huo Tingxiao looked down and saw a pair of bright red, moisture-filled eyes looking up at him intently and earnestly in silence.
He felt the bandage on Lin Xun’s palm, then looked at the still-evident scrapes on Lin Xun’s cheekbone—wounds Lin Xun had sustained, both actively and passively, to protect him.
Even though Lin Xun couldn’t speak, and even though Lin Xun always thought he hid it well…
These wounds were already worth more than countless sweet confessions.
Huo Tingxiao hooked his fingertips around Lin Xun’s in return, asking him, “Is something bothering you?”
Lin Xun shook his head. As he pulled his finger back, he also retracted his head a little deeper into the blanket, burying most of his face.
Yet he was still unwilling to close his eyes and sleep.
After locking eyes for a few seconds, Huo Tingxiao took off his shoes and climbed onto the bed, lying on his side outside Lin Xun’s blanket. Propping his head up, he brushed back the stray hairs from Lin Xun’s forehead and said, “Go to sleep.”
Flushed bright red, Lin Xun pulled back down into the duvet another section, exposing only a pair of eyes outside.
Huo Tingxiao raised his hand to turn off the main overhead light, leaving only a small nightlight by the bedside.
The dimness allowed the observer to grow more relaxed, and even more greedy.
Lin Xun stared intently at Huo Tingxiao’s face, his eyelids growing heavier and heavier. Yet he couldn’t sleep for long before slipping back from bizarre, kaleidoscopic dreams, opening his eyes to steal a glance.
He didn’t know how many times he had woken up like this.
The drunkenness had faded a little, but his head remained unclear, light-headed and dizzy; Lin Xun was hot all over.
He felt all the hotter seeing Huo Tingxiao lying beside his pillow with closed eyes.
Quietly, he loosened the blanket a bit, carefully holding his breath as he leaned in close to trace Huo Tingxiao’s sleeping face with his eyes.
No matter how many times he looked, whether from afar or up close, Huo Tingxiao’s face was impeccably handsome.
The more Lin Xun looked, the hotter he felt, his breathing falling out of sync.
In his ears was the thumping sound of his own chaotic heartbeat.
Lying on his side in bed, he pressed his legs together, trying to quell this abnormal surge of arousal laced with shame and guilt.
Right at that moment, Huo Tingxiao opened his eyes.
His jet-black pupils held not a trace of hazy sleepiness.
The two stared at each other for a long moment before Huo Tingxiao reached out to touch the flush at the corner of Lin Xun’s eyes.
His fingertips wiped away a trace of moisture, skimmed across the bridge of his nose, tapped lightly against his lips a few times, and finally rested on Lin Xun’s choker.
The knuckles pressed against Lin Xun’s Adam’s apple with slight pressure.
A faint sense of suffocation washed over him, and he instinctively grasped Huo Tingxiao’s wrist.
“You have a hand injury; it’s inconvenient.”
Huo Tingxiao hooked his choker, pulling him a bit closer, and asked, “Do you need my help?”